all (sweaty, glorious) photos: Dakota Fine
all (not elegant) words: Svetlana
The week before this Saturday I was at a house party DJed by Fatback DJs and at some point, in the middle of my 1800th consecutive twirl, I opened my eyes, realized it was beyond 3am, that my dress was more of a shirt than anything else at that point and that I am (and I quote) “Too old to be doing this and too young to stop” and ran out and to my house as fast as my legs could handle at that point.
It took a week to recover from the strenuous excercise of dancing for 4 hours straight and then running (read the “too old” part) and then, before you knew it it was Saturday again, and (official) Fatback time AGAIN.
Now, if you’ve never been, you should definitely go.
Fatback started at Local 16 then moved to Dahlak then moved to Red Lounge (was there a Selam pit stop? Anyone?) and then finally, as Red Lounge was about to crumble under the sheer weight of adoring fans, they moved to LIV (upstairs at Bohemian caverns) so that there is enough room for everyone to dance.
Aaaaaaaand….
It is still packed.
To the gills.
With people sweating like pigs (I love puns), dancing like animals in the middle of heat season and everyone in general having a good/great/excellent time (of their lives). This particular weekend we rolled up, Phillipe hugged us while wearing a crown (hugs make everything better, always-fact), we sat on the couch for a little bit, decided there was really no point in that, someone handed me a pig snout mask and a teeny paper crown and I am pretty sure I could not breathe through the snout but I am also pretty sure I really, really did not want to take it off (I now have a vase with a pig’s nose, thankyouverymuch).
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And it was really dark in there.
And music was just a dance party, no matter what kind of a dance party you liked.
And everyone there seemed not so much interested in anything else BUT the dance party, just like it should be, in a perfect dance party universe.
And when , in the middle of my 20000th consecutive twirl, opened my eyes, realized it was ALMOST 3 am, that my dress was more of a shirt than anything else at that point and that I am (and I quote) “Too old to be doing this and too young to stop” and ran out and to my house as fast as my legs could handle at that point (which was, this time around, not very fast).
Outside someone asked: “Are you going to hometown heroes?” and I said “I will die” and then asked them “Were you just at Fatback?” and they nodded I said “You seem surprisingly dry”, and everyone laughed, and I limped my way back to my bed.
It was pretty great overall.
I am sure Dakota’s photos indicate that.
Want more:
Photos by Danny here
and catch them next this Thursday at the Sockets’ Fly Girlz CD Release Party @ Red Lounge
that last picture looks like it could be you and becca. kinda freaked me out at first (not that anything’s wrong with that) – but then i realized “you” weren’t wearing a fabulous belted muumuu
April 22, 2009 at 7:51 am(not that there is anything wrong with that).
April 22, 2009 at 9:06 amso like what’s your stance on dudes then: to do or not to do?
April 22, 2009 at 10:57 amwell, there is a little bit wrong with it
my favorite part of the night was Erik Loften on the maracas.
April 22, 2009 at 11:22 amWord up, those photos is great.
April 22, 2009 at 11:38 amAlso, everyone should revisit this:
http://www.brightestyoungthings.com/food/fatback/
Serious issues with Saturday night…first of all, a member of our party was wearing sandals and the doorman wouldn’t let her in. It is nearly summer, after all. Turns out, there was a steady line of disgruntled young ladies coming away from the doorman, having been rejected. Except one comely lass in the smoking area with (the ugliest of the bunch) sandals…”She’s a friend of the owner.” The doorman even held back someone with sandals in her PURSE, for god’s sake… Well, later on our sandal-wearing compatriot had gone home and so we returned. I don’t know if it was just bad timing or what, but they were playing the worst music–I like Beirut, but this knock-off pseudo eastern european roma accordion shite and its accompanying wrist-dance poseurs was just not good. I think this party may be too trendy for me… I really *really* like that photo of the girl with the camera.
April 22, 2009 at 5:10 pmBy knock-off pseudo Eastern European Roma accordion shite – do you mean Balkan Beat Box: they are pretty legit actually, also one of the coolest live shows I’ve seen this year.
April 22, 2009 at 6:03 pmAmazing.
April 25, 2009 at 12:00 pm
I feel like a proud father. Svetlana you are an angel among princesses. Thanks for all the BYT love along the way.
April 21, 2009 at 7:05 pm